


Sleepless in St. Boniface

by rivlee



Series: Gone Are All The Days [25]
Category: Band of Brothers, The Pacific - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-13
Updated: 2012-01-13
Packaged: 2017-10-29 11:05:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/319210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivlee/pseuds/rivlee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Good things can happen after 2am. Part of a Modern AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleepless in St. Boniface

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** This is all fiction based off the characters as portrayed in the HBO mini-series. No disrespect is meant.
> 
> First posted Dec. 5th, 2010.

Babe woke up to an empty bed. Such a thing was not, in and of itself, uncommon. Gene kept crazy hours and as the closest doctor to the clinic, was pretty much on call 24 hours a day. Once every three weeks though, Gene took a day and night off. On that night he pretty much slept like the dead and nothing short of yelling directly in his ear could wake him up.

So by all accounts, Gene should’ve been in bed. Wrapped up in his blankets because fifty degrees meant freezing to his thin Southern blood and ‘you damn Yankees control the thermostat.’

Babe blinked until his vision focused enough to read the clock. 2:45. Great. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and rolled out of bed. He grabbed a pair of jeans off the floor, not really caring who they belonged to, and stumbled out of their bedroom. He went down the first flight of stairs to the second floor. Sounds came spilling out of all the rooms. Spina was playing _Call of Duty Three_ , Sledge was watching something narrated by Bill Kurtis, and Eddie’s door was wide open. Babe stopped there and peeked inside.

“Hey, Eddie, what’re you doing up?” he asked.

Eddie grinned and shrugged. Music sheets surrounded him on the floor and his guitar rested in his lap. “Got a melody in my mind that just wouldn’t leave,” he said.

“You think it’s going to work out?” Babe asked. He marveled at Eddie’s talent. He didn’t have the most melodic voice, but Eddie Jones played his guitar with more soul than Babe had heard in a long time.

“I hope so,” Eddie said. “I need something for that showcase in Nashville next week.” He jotted down a note in the tattered journal by his feet. “You looking for Roe?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Babe said, “he ain’t in bed like he should be.”

“I think I heard him rummaging around in the kitchen about half an hour ago.”

Babe nodded. “He’s not the midnight snacking type but when Renée makes her fudge all bets are off.” He gestured to the stairs. “I should get down there. Good luck with the music.”

“Thanks, Heffron,” Eddie said. He’d already turned back to his pages, his fingers miming some tune from his head.

Babe almost tripped over Oliver, the once sickly stray cat grown fat and lazy by overfeeding and overindulgent owners, who mewed at him and swatted at his ankles. He picked Oliver up and dropped him near the food bowl. The cat was the most spoiled creature he’d ever met. He checked the living room for Gene first and found it empty. The kitchen was just as deserted but the backdoor was unlocked.

Babe sighed. If it wasn’t one, it was the other. He went to the fridge and grabbed two water bottles before heading outside. His feet moved over the grass, wet with dew but still warm. Gene laid stretched out on the hammock, staring up at the stars.

“Whatever’s wrong better be over by 4:30,” Babe said as he settled down beside Gene. “I’m sure I’ll have another appointment.”

“You’d kick me out of this hammock to listen to Merl-Francis whine?” Gene asked. He wrapped an arm around Babe’s bare stomach and pulled him close.

“He does have a standing appointment,” Babe murmured into Gene’s dark hair.

“Yeah, but I have a stronger claim,” Gene said.

“Can’t argue against that one,” Babe said. He dropped the water bottles and laughed softly when Gene jumped from the cold touch. He ran a finger down his arm and watched the hair stand up under the moonlight. “Can’t sleep?” he asked.

“Just thinking,” Gene said. He let his hand trail up and down Babe’s spine, making swirls and patterns which only made sense to him.

“About?” Babe prompted.

“A lot of things,” Gene said.

“Well who’s the vague bastard now?” Babe asked.

Gene laughed. “Mind’s just racing tonight, Edward. No reason for it, just not used to relaxing.”

“I’ve been trying to remedy that for the past two years.”

“I know and I appreciate it. Believe me when I tell you I’m much better now than I used to be.” Gene shifted and let one of his feet fall to the ground. He pushed off and let the hammock swing. “Paw-Paw wants us over for dinner on Sunday.”

“I take it that’s not a request,” Babe said.

“Early September, start of gator-hunting season, you bet your ass it’s not a request. It’s an out-right demand,” Gene said.

Babe shuddered in disgust. “Gene, I can’t eat gator gumbo again. I just can’t.”

“He promised to whip up some plain shrimp gumbo for you. He really doesn’t eat that much gator meat, it’s just tradition for the first hunt.”

“Uh-huh,” Babe said.

He didn’t care what Gene and Merriell said, Paw-Paw Roe was not right. The old man had one too many loose but at least he’d finally come to some sort of truce with Babe. He once thought Merriell was the worst of the in-laws, not the sanest of all. Time and Roe Family Reunions kept proving him wrong.

Right then, at that moment, Babe felt the sharp pang of missing his own family home. He’d only been back once for Julian’s wake and funeral. His parents and siblings came down at least three times year, but it wasn’t the same as walking down the street from his shitty apartment with no a/c and intermittent heat to his Ma’s warm kitchen. Then again, St. Boniface had a lot more perks than just his Ma’s cooking and the streets of his childhood. It just didn’t seem right that he’d seen so much of Gene’s life but the same couldn’t be said for Babe’s.

“Nixon’s giving me two weeks off next month,” he said.

“You going to D.C. to see Bill?” Gene asked.

“Nah, I think I’ll switch it up this time.”

“Oh yeah, where you gonna go? Torment Johnny Martin on his home soil? Go visit Chuck and get fat off Kitty’s baked goods?” Gene asked.

Babe took a deep breath and looked at the trees looming overhead. He’d been stewing over this for months but he couldn’t keep putting it off.

“I want to go back to Philly and I want you to come with me if you can. I know the notice might be too short but Nixon’s lax enough that I’m sure he’ll let me postpone.”

“Edward,” Gene’s voice went soft. He reached a hand up and drew Babe’s chin down. “Are you sure?”

“You should get the chance to see the streets that made me. And Gene, if I don’t start doing it now, I can’t say for sure if I ever will. So, yeah, I’m sure. Certain as I can be.”

Gene nodded. “Then we’re going. Anna will be here to babysit Sid. You do know Merl-Francis is going to tag along.”

“I figured. Especially since Sledge will probably cream himself over the huge Audubon’s _Birds of America_ at the Academy of Natural Sciences. I had to see that friggin’ book for every single biological, earth and environmental science class I ever took. It’s a ceremony just to turn a page each week.”

Babe would never, ever understand Sledge’s bird obsession but hell, it got him through the day.

“Spina will probably come too,” Gene said.

“I figured it was going to be a family trip. I’m just debating if the five us can survive the road trip.”

“Let the kids drive, we’ll fly up,” Gene said. “I’m not playing referee for Spina and Merl-Francis’ arguments over music. Someone would be dead by the roadside.”

“Can’t have that,” Babe said. He couldn’t stop the smile on his face. “It’s going to be hell, you know that? I’ll probably be curled up in a ball on the airport’s bathroom floor.”

“And I’ll be there to kick your ass on to the plane,” Gene said. “I know you, Edward. It’s not going to be easy, but you got your mind set. We’ll deal with it as it comes.”

Babe nodded. He leaned down for a brief kiss, unwilling to tempt the fates and get up to more out here. Merriell could be around any corner waiting to call the cops on them for violation of public decency laws. He was kind of a little shit like that.

“Now that we got that out of the way, can we go back inside? I’d like to get some sleep tonight,” he said.

“We could sleep out here, enjoy a night under the stars,” Gene said.

“Oh, hell no,” Babe protested. “I’m not having my balls chewed off by a nutria.”

“Romance is wasted on you, Edward Heffron,” Gene said.

“Rabies aren’t hot, Gene,” he replied.

“I doubt you even know how true a statement that is,” he said. Gene poked at his side. “Get your ass up so this thing doesn’t flip over.”

“This is the craftsmanship of Eddie Jones, it’s not going to flip.”

“Humor me,” he said.

“Don’t I always?” Babe asked. He got a kick in the ass for a response.

Gene laughed but then slid an arm around his waist and pulled him toward the house.

“You okay?” Babe asked.

“Yeah,” Gene said, “long week. Glad to have the day off tomorrow.”

“Promise me you’ll get some sleep,” Babe said.

Gene was getting that tired and drawn look. The swine flu bullshit of the past few months didn’t help things. Not enough flu vaccines to go around period, besides the new strain and lack of funding. It’d been a whole bunch of sleepless nights for Gene. The outbreak of chicken pox at the two elementary schools only made this last month all the worse.

“I’ll try,” Gene said, as good a promise as he could give.

They went back into the house, past Oliver’s half-hearted mewing form, past Eddie’s open door and soft singing. Spina’s room still blared video game sounds, but Sledge’s was now quiet. They turned onto the landing for the third floor when Oliver came rushing past them, up the stairs and into the bedroom.

“Why is it that cat sleeps in our bed more than we do?” Gene asked.

“Ask your best friend. He trained the damned thing,” Babe said.

He left their door cracked open so Oliver could get out. He turned to the bed and found Gene already face-first in his pillow. Babe just shook his head and stripped off the jeans. He put them in Gene’s hamper since they appeared to be more fashionable than functional. He crawled into their bed, shoved the blankets over on to Gene and got comfortable.

“You’re welcome,” he said.

“Thank you for your generous act of throwing blankets you don’t even use over to my side,” Gene said, muffled because he was still face-down.

“Goodnight, Gene.”

“Night, John-Boy.”

“Kiss my ass.”

“Not now, dear, I’m tired.” Gene kicked him. “Love you, you pain in my ass.”

“Love you too, princess, now go to bed.”

Babe glanced at the clock. 3:30 in the morning. If God was kind, he’d get four good hours of rest. He snuggled down into the bed, let his foot rest on Gene’s calf and finally went to sleep.


End file.
